


Rude Awakening

by IronStrangeLover (sherlockian4evr)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, IronStrange, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 05:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/IronStrangeLover
Summary: In the middle of the night, Tony gets sent flying (literally) from the comfort of his and Stephen's bed by the sorcerer's nightmare.





	Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking fic requests. If you have something you would like me to write, drop me a note at sherlockian4evr@gmail.com.

Tony and Stephen were asleep, side by side, in their bed in the New York Sanctum. The sorcerer's sleep was restless as he tossed and turned, moving away from his lover without conscious intent. Missing his warmth, Tony, instinctively sought him out, his arm going around him. The genius billionaire woke to a blast that sent him hurtling across the room. He would have made a nasty impact with the opposite wall had the Cloak of Levitation not caught him in a cradling embrace, slowing, then stopping his involuntary flight.

“What the fu-” Tony broke off seeing Strange sitting up, back against the headboard and hands stretched out before him. They wove magic that caused weapons of orange sparks to shift and lock on Stark. What shook the billionaire to his core, though, was the lack of recognition in Stephen's eyes. He started to say something else, but the cloak swiftly covered his mouth, muffling him. Against his nature, Stark decided to keep quiet. That had a lot to do with the sheer madness he saw in the sorcerer's eyes.

After several long, tense minutes, the cloak settled Tony on his feet and unwound from about him. It hovered a couple of feet away as if entrusting the billionaire genius with the situation.

“Stephen,” Tony called out in his steadiest voice, “I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to trust me.” Actually he had a horrible idea that he knew exactly what was happening. It was a closely guarded secret that he suffered from PTSD. Only two people were aware of the fact: Pepper and Stephen. He had experienced his own waking nightmares often enough to suspect this was what it looked like from the other side. “What’s happening to you, it’s not real. Listen to my voice. Follow it back to me.”

For the next several minutes, Stark simply talked. He described their room. He reminded Stephen in detail what they had done the night before. He explained his latest theory and the experiments he planned when he got back to the lab. He talked about random nothing things. He talked until his throat was sore. Finally, it paid off.

The magical weapons sputtered, then died out and the sorcerer blinked, sanity returning to his gaze. “Tony?” Strange's voice trembled, making him sound so unlike himself to Stark’s ears.

“Yes. I'm here.” The billionaire took a couple of hasty steps towards his lover, but stopped when he saw him flinch. “Everything is going to be fine.” He moved slowly towards the foot of the bed, and, not receiving a negative reaction, sat. Tony wanted nothing more than to hold Stephen in his arms, but sensed it wouldn’t be welcomed yet. He started to speak, but Strange began shaking. In horror, Tony watched as one of the strongest people he knew crumbled before him.

Stark moved closer instinctively, but the sorcerer scrambled back. Stephen couldn’t stand the thought of being touched, not after what he had just been through. Dying a thousand deaths and more, he had lost count of them, had left its mark on his psyche and he had just relived the most horrible of them. His skin still felt flayed. Any touch would surely bring nothing but pain.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Tony moved away, raising his hands. “Maybe… If you can tell me what… Maybe I can help.” Not that he ever offered to talk about it after one of his nightmares or flashbacks, but he wanted to help.

The sorcerer took a shaky breath and let it out. “Dormammu.” He knew he was being irrational about not wanting to be touched. He knew it. He held his shaking hands up in front of his face and looked at them. They were fine. Well, they were as fine as they were ever going to be. He was aware of Tony watching him. Cautiously, he reached out one hand to him, bracing for the expected burning pain. When their hands touched, he gasped in relief. There was the normal pain that he had learned to live with, but nothing more.

The billionaire was startled when Stephen gave a short burst of hysterical laughter, but shrugged it off. He had done far stranger in the aftermath of his own nightmares. Who was he to judge? When he was engulfed in a desperate embrace, he simply returned it. Whatever Stephen needed, he would give.


End file.
